America is a country of great ambitions but even greater divisions. Reason enough for photographer and filmmaker Robin de Puy to look for 'the American'. Who is that? Who represents this country? Episode 7: thoughts of Daunte Wright.
After a long drive through the North of Arkansas we finally strand in a small town called Mena. Immediately we are surprised by an un overenthusiastic singer on the corner of the street. ‘There she stood... in the street.’ The traffic lights give his performance ambiance.
In the parking lot between Walmart, Pizza Hut and McDonald’s, we spot a group of pickup trucks, with big rims, engines roaring low and filled with white boys with baseball caps. The rearview mirrors are full of heavily scented Christmas tree-shaped air fresheners to mask all the odors associated with boys on their way to manhood.
Intrigued to who these men are, I rush toward them. Without asking any questions, the biggest stories are being told. Cody (18) is missing a little finger, accidentally cut off with the log splitter and Mason (17) once caught a huge largemouth bass – what this fish looks like, speaks for itself. They earned the money for their trucks themselves, mind you: these boys were brought up with a big work ethic. They don’t talk about abortion and politics (too complicated) and their favorite move with girls is The Shocker.
‘The Shocker?, I ask. ‘Yes! Two in the pink, one in the stink’. The boys are moving wildly with their hands in shocker position. Even without a pinky finger Cody knows how to make something out of it. ‘It makes the ladies scream!’ I look at some of the girls who are hanging around and I am wondering myself how many of these girls endured the shocker and how much of the sound made in the process was about pleasure.
My thoughts wander away to Daunte Wright (20) who was pulled over because he had an air freshener on his rearview mirror – in many states this is prohibited, because it would obstruct your view. In reality, it is often an excuse for officers to pull someone over. For Wright this situation ended with a bullet in his black chest.
‘Are you afraid of the police sometimes?’ I ask them. ‘Police? Noooo, they don’t bother us.’ The carefree attitude of these boys seems in place here, but it is difficult to reconcile with the other side of the American coin.
‘You want to see a burnout, ma’am?’ I prefer making it myself, but I hold my tongue. ‘Yes!’ Lamp oil on the tires and burn away. In the background I hear the false, but comforting words ‘All right now baby it’s all right now.’
